


Naked Monopoly

by Rachael Sabotini (wickedwords)



Category: Starsky & Hutch (2004)
Genre: Comedy, M/M, Romance, Tongue-in-cheek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-28
Updated: 2005-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedwords/pseuds/Rachael%20Sabotini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hutch has been acting weird lately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked Monopoly

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to elynross and sherrold for the beta.

Hutch shook his head, spraying water across the front door of Starsky's place. "How'd they know we were there?"

Starsky shrugged as he pulled out the keys. "I think it was the dogs." It had been his idea to hide in the bushes near the garage; it gave them a great view of the balcony where the meet was supposed to go down. "I think they spotted us, and that's when the kids decided to turn on the hose." 

Hutch pressed his hand against his shoulder, where he'd been tagged by the stream of water. "I think I've got a big goose egg here." 

"Hey, don't drip on the floor." Starsky shoved his arm in front of Hutch. "I don't want to have to mop tonight. I'm sure you'll be fine." He squeezed Hutch's arm gently, and watched the exaggerated wince. When Hutch acted really hurt, he was fine; when he acted fine, you knew that he was hurting. "They just had some kinda super soaker on it." He let his hand drop, and reminded himself -- again -- not to touch Hutch so much. 

"Super soaker is right." Hutch shoved his damp hair out of his face "I think that I'm wet everywhere." He shook his hands, his arms, and his legs to illustrate the point. 

Starsky looked at him, taking in the view. His jeans clung to him like…like…like wet jeans, outlining every bend and crinkle. And wow, how could he be that hard with all that cold water dripping off of him? 

"Everywhere?" Starsky hated it when his voice came out in a squeak. 

"Pretty much, yeah. I think my ass is the only thing that isn't wet. Look, I'm going to go in your house, and I'm going to drip on the floor. You comin' with me, or are you standing around so your neighbors can wonder?" Hutch waved at the house next door. "Mrs. Kravitz sees all, tells all, you know?" 

"Okay, wait." Starsky pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. There had to be away around this. "Got it. You come inside, we close the door, and then you take everything off." 

"Okay, it's your call, buddy." Hutch had the biggest damn grin on his face. "You've never asked me to get naked in your house before." 

"Just don't step off the rug." It wasn't like they hadn't seen each other naked before, it was just...they always had girls with them, and the girls were the ones that got them naked. Starsky made like he was gonna take out his gun to enforce the rug order, and Hutch held up his hands in surrender, his grin getting even wider. 

Starsky had to smile back. Man, Hutch was in a goofy mood tonight. As Starsky shut the door, he caught sight of Mrs. Kravitz peeking out of her front curtains and gave her a wave. 

She gave him the finger. 

Starsky grabbed at his gun, but Hutch pushed his hand down and bolted the door. 

"You are just too uptight sometimes, ya know?" Hutch rolled his eyes as he said it. He made an obvious effort to stay on the sisal mat just inside the door, and Starsky felt like an idiot, as the mat seemed as small as a postage stamp with both of them on it. They couldn't help but brush against each other as they tried to undress. Each casual touch, each "Excuse me", "Sorry", or "Oh, man, are you okay? I didn't mean to hit you in the eye" just made it all that much more difficult. 

Starsky had resigned himself to having a crush on his partner, but did Hutch have to make it so difficult to keep it under control? Starsky knew the unwritten rules from their double dates, including the ones about not looking like you were looking, and keeping your hands to yourself unless one of the girls put them someplace, and then you could touch. Though some days -- like today, for example -- Hutch almost acted as if he wanted Starsky to jump his bones. 

Starsky unbuttoned his shirt, not really paying attention to where his gaze was drifting, until he found himself staring at Hutch as he hooked his thumbs into his underwear. Blushing, Starsky quickly looked away. Just because Hutch was in one of his loony moods was no reason to get, uh, ideas. 

"Oh, come on, pal," Hutch slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't go all shy on me. You've seen it before." 

Well, yeah, he had, but a foursome was different. He was looking at the girl then, not at the way Hutch's cock looked, not at the way it lay kinda pointing right, the fabric tight against it, so he could see -- Don't look, he told himself again. Don't look. Don't look. Don't. Look. "It's your underwear," he said at last, determined not to look. 

But looking anyway. 

And looking away again. Really. He was looking away. "What does it say, anyway?" he asked casually, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. 

"If you want to know, then read it." 

"I can't," Starsky said, giving up and making eye contact. "It's all squiggly." 

Hutch blinked, then squinted at his crotch. "Something wicked this way comes. I think. They were a gift. Kinda." 

"Kinda?" 

"Well, I had to go out the bathroom window when Danielle's husband got home, and I grabbed these instead of my own. They're my lucky pair." 

"Don't you think that's more of a Halloween thing? With those orange bats and everything?" 

"Hey, these are the softest underwear I've ever owned." Hutch turned his ass to Starsky. "Go on, feel." 

Nothing like an invitation to do something he wanted to do anyway. Starsky ran his hand over Hutch's ass. "Hey, that is soft." The ass under the cloth was firm and tight, and boy, was this a really bad idea. He was crossing the line, he knew it. At least, he think he knew it, but Hutch had offered, so did that really mean that Starsky had -- 

"Keep it up and you might get lucky." 

Starsky realized he was still rubbing Hutch's ass and jerked his hand back. "Sorry." 

"Don't be. It felt kinda nice." Hutch turned around front again, his eyes twinkling. Fuck but Starsky couldn't tell a thing from what his eyes said. "They don't bind, either. The boys are snuggled up all nice and tight. You should get a pair." 

"Yeah, yeah, I might." Starsky was staring down at Hutch, his eyes glazing over slightly. Okay, this was different too. Hutch was half-hard and well-defined, and it wasn't just Starsky's heart that was pounding. Throbbing was a much better word for what was happening there, though. What the hell did Hutch want? 

He turned away quickly and smacked into the door frame. "I'll, uh, make some coffee. And get us some towels." 

"Sounds good." Hutch called after him. "I'll make myself comfortable." 

"You always do." 

"Ain't that the truth?" 

Starsky headed into his well-stocked kitchen, opened the freezer, and took out the small tin of coffee with Juan Valdez on it. He crabbed the can opener, and the smell of fresh coffee grounds burst into the air. Ah. Nothing was too good for his friend Hutch. Elton John was singing "Island Girl" on the stereo, and it looked to be an incredible night. 

"Hey, Starsky?" Hutch called from the living room. "You up for a game?" 

"No poker, no rummy, no card games of any kind." Starsky yelled back, putting the coffee in the maker and adding the water. "You're too good at them. Pick something else." He smiled at the gurgle of water flowing into the grounds. 

"How about Monopoly?" 

"Sounds fine," he said absently. Man, his clothes were soaked, too. Decision made, he headed for the downstairs bathroom and searched for a dry towel among the ones ready to be washed. He didn't really like grabbing dirty laundry, but this was a special circumstance. His own plain white briefs just didn't have style the way Hutch's did, and everything else was too soaked to wear. 

He could have gone upstairs and grabbed a robe, if he wanted. But Hutch just seemed so calm about sitting around in his underwear that Starsky wasn't willing to risk Hutch calling him a prude for the next couple of weeks; he was already pissed off that Starsky kept turning him down for more double dates. But the way Starsky figured it, why take chances? He was bound to do something he wasn't supposed to with Hutch, worse than anything he'd done tonight, and he didn't want to risk their friendship; the double dates just weren't making him happy any more, even though the sex was always great. Tying a light blue bath sheet around him, he grabbed a dark green guest towel and threw it to Hutch before going back to the kitchen for coffee. 

Hutch had set up everything on the floor of the living room by the time the coffee was ready. He grinned up at Starsky from where he lounged on the carpet. "I figured most of me was still too damp to sit on the couch without leaving some interesting spots." 

"Good call." Starsky set the coffee carafe and cups on the table, along with the little plate of lemon shortbread he'd dug up. "I warn you," he said as he sat cross legged on the floor across from Hutch, "Monopoly is my game." 

"We'll just see about that." Hutch rolled the dice and got a twelve. "Box cars." He grinned as he moved the racecar to the Electric Company. "Looks like Lady Luck is my friend tonight." 

Starsky rolled his eyes. Hutch always got lucky with women. 

* * *

No matter how many times he counted his money, Starsky still didn't have enough to make rent. "You win," he said, starting to pile all of his assets together. "I guess we call it a night."

Hutch was staring at him, his blue eyes glinting with mischief. "Now, Starsk. We've been over this before. Nobody wins until I say they win, and right now, I'm not saying it." He slid two thousand in play money across the playing board. "I'm gonna make you a loan."

Starsky shook his head. "Hutch, I've lost. I don't have any property. There's no way I can win."

"Well, I'll lend you some." He threw the deeds to Baltic and Mediterranean on top of the cash. "Take it, buddy. It's yours."

Hutch had to be desperate to want to string the game out. Maybe he didn't want to go home. Mentally shrugging, Starsky picked up the pile, only to have Hutch's hand close around his.

Hands didn't break the unwritten rules. Still, Starsky's breathing quickened as he glanced back at Hutch. "What's up?"

"I said it was a loan. I need some collateral."

"Hutch, I haven't got anything. You know that."

"Sure you do. Give me your towel."

"I can't give you my towel as collateral. There's nothing about making loans anywhere in the rules. When you run out of money, you're done. And I am done, buddy. I don't have another cent."

"'Course it's not in the official rules. It's like putting all of the luxury taxes and other fees in the center and collecting it when you hit free parking. It's a house rule, not an official one."

"But it's my house."

"Hey, I'm the one that set up the board. So it's my house, and my house rules. And my house rule is that clothing can be pawned."

"Are you sure free parking isn't an official rule?"

"Look it up yourself." Hutch handed him the rule book. "No free parking bonus."

Starsky glanced at the rule book. Huh. Looks like Hutch was right. "So you want me--"

"--to take off the towel, yes." Hutch said it slowly and carefully, like Starsky didn't understand what he was talking about.

"You need another towel? I can run upstairs and get you a new one if you want."

"Now you're just being obstinate. Look, just take off the towel and we're even."

Oh. OH. Starsky knew what Hutch as asking, and it threw all the "don't look, don't touch" rules right out the window. "You wanna play strip monopoly? With me?"

Hutch leaned over the board, his eye twinkling. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No, I am not scared." Starsky stood and made a mess of getting his towel unknotted, jerking it left and right until the thing finally came off. "There. You satisfied?"

"Very satisfied." If anything, Hutch's drawl became more pronounced. "I can work with that."

Work with what? Starsky thought as he sat down.

Hutch was looking at him oddly, the way he looked at stewardesses sometimes. Or gardeners. And mechanics. But he was looking, clearly looking, at Starsky, so Starsky looked right back.

Hutch was lean-muscled and hard, and Starsky wanted him bad. He could feel his cock harden the more he looked, and decided that maybe the no-looking rule was a good one right now, and turned his gaze to the bits of backyard visible through the vertical blinds on the sliding glass doors. "Hutch? It's your turn, man."

"Uh, yeah, right." Hutch shifted on the carpet, scooting over slightly as if his lounging position had sudden gotten uncomfortable. "Darn hip!" he cried. "I must have bruised it getting over the fence."

"Do you want me to get you something? I think I got some ben gay upstairs."

"No, I'll be fine. But if you could hand me that pillow--"

Starsky grabbed the one closest to him from where it had fallen off the couch and handed it to Hutch, who made a big production of shifting himself around and up so that his side was cushioned slightly, and his feet were practically lying in Starsky's lap.

They were nice feet, Starsky thought. The no-looking rule was suspended, so maybe for tonight, the no-touching one was as well. He hesitated for a second, and then tentatively pulled them into his lap. He felt a little dizzy, like the air had suddenly become thin. Oh fuck, what was he in for tonight? Still, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the ball of Hutch's foot. "You ticklish?"

Hutch rolled over onto his back, like a dog or a cat being petted. "Not so much." He let out a long sigh. "Damn, that feels good. Press harder, would ya?"

Starsky did, kneading into the ball with both thumbs.

Hutch's long toes curled up in pleasure. "Oh, yeah." He sighed. "That's the way to do it."

Funny, Starsky had never really thought about feet before. They felt good in his hands, soft, yet hard where the calluses were. He stroked his fingers over the skin, letting himself enjoy the feel of Hutch's skin as he rubbed across the top, under the arch, and between Hutch's toes.

Hutch moaned softly, and Starsky realized he had moved beyond 'touching' and into 'fondling', maybe groping, only Hutch hadn't realized it yet. Right. He'd let himself go just a little, and here he was giving the guy a foot massage on his living room floor. Starsky put Hutch's foot down carefully; it was tough to let go.

"Did I tell you to stop?" Hutch said and pressed his foot against Starsky's crotch.

"Uh, no, but--" Starsky's eyes rolled back; he was aching and hard and oh, that was good. Hutch had to be working from a different rule book than the one Starsky was given, maybe one that said 'touching okay with feet but not with hands.'

If so, Starsky really wanted a copy of that rule book, as it sounded a lot more fun than his own.

"Free ride on Boardwalk if you do that again."

"Hutch--"

"Okay, fifty bucks and you can have, uh, Water Works and the Electric Company. That'll give you another monopoly."

"Hutch, I really don't think--"

"A thousand bucks and New York Avenue if you keep up the foot massage."

Hutch was looking at him, his blue eyes practically begging Starsky to keep it up, keep touching him. Whatever rule book Starsky had been using didn't matter; the game was by house rules tonight. Which meant that Starsky could do anything he wanted to do: touching, kissing, licking, sucking --

"What do I get for a blowjob?" The words just kinda spilled out before Starsky could stop them. He could feel his face heating up, knew his cheeks had to be red, but Hutch was staring at him like he was the most brilliant man on the planet.

"A blowjob. Now that is a truly excellent idea." He stood and stripped off his bizarre underwear and threw them in a corner. "Have you ever given a guy a blowjob before?"

"Uh…no."

"Didn't think so, but it's not tough to learn. Let me show you how to do it first, then you can do me."

The idea of Hutch on his knees, his mouth around Starksy's cock was both hot and frightening, and he had a sudden urge to backpeddle and get out of the situation. "Hutch, I meant it as a joke." Even to him, it sounded a little desperate.

"Not from where I'm standing. You're frightened. I get that, I do. But this isn't gonna change who we are or what we mean to each other, and I've thought about it a lot." Hutch put his hand over his heart. "Hell, I've spent weeks trying to seduce you and you haven't been exactly co-operative, but I wasn't gonna do anything if you didn't want to. So, if this is my chance, I'm gonna take it." His eyes blazed, and the world seemed to dim around him with the intensity that shown from within him. "So, is this my chance, Starsky? Is it? Do you want to do this with me?"

Starsky's mouth felt dry as he stared up at Hutch, and he didn't feel like he could get enough air. He had to take a deep breath before a single word could struggle out of his mouth: "Yes."

"Good." Hutch smiled and dropped onto the floor, turning from towering figure back into Starsky's crazy friend again. "We'll go slowly, okay? Blowjobs might not be the thing right now." He gathered Starsky in his arms, just like he did with the girls Starsky had seen him with.

It didn't feel weird at all, like he'd been afraid it would; it felt really comfortable to have Hutch wrapped around him, his arm curving around Starsky's back.

Hutch brushed fingers over Starsky's lips. "Then let's start with kissing, shall we? We can go to hand jobs and blow jobs and maybe other things after that."

Kissing was good. Hutch's lips were soft and his cheeks were scratchy, and his mouth tasted like coffee and the shortbread Starsky had dragged out. The touch of Hutch in his hands and the feel of Hutch's tongue in his mouth temporarily distracted him, but a thought wormed its way out of the heat and sensation to slide into the forefront of his brain the second he had a chance to breathe: he'd been tricked.

The whole night had been a set up. Starsky growled and pressed Hutch back onto the floor beside him. "So you _have_ been deliberately teasing me these past few weeks."

"Of course I have! I wanted you to go at your own pace, but man, it's been geologic. I had to try and do something to speed things up."

"So the turtleneck, and the tight jeans --"

"All for you, man. All for you." Hutch was laughing, and Starsky nuzzled his ear, licking the lobe.

Hutch's laughter became a low drawn-out moan, and Starsky really liked the sound of that. He nipped at Hutch's neck, then whispered, "What about the kids with the super soakers tonight? Did you plant those?"

Hutch turned so that their lips almost brushed against each other. "Nah, I was just working with natural inspiration there."

Starsky swung himself up and over Hutch's thighs, their cocks brushing each other, making Hutch jerk. Hutch reacted like that was a heady experience, and Starsky felt all-powerful for once in his life, knowing that Hutch wanted him. If Hutch had had doubts about what Starsky wanted, well, Starsky promised himself that he would make his desires perfectly clear. "Shut up, will ya?"

"Sounds good." Hutch pressed up while Starsky twisted around so that their half-hard cocks lay next to each other and their chests brushed together. "Oh, yeah," Hutch sighed, and skimmed his hand down Starsky's back to his ass. "That's good."

Hutch's hand felt good, rubbing up and down at the base of Starsky's spine. "It's good, but this is better." Starsky eased his hand down in-between the two of them and wrapped it around the head of Hutch's cock and squeezed.

Hutch jerked and gasped. "Damn."

It was like he was drugged. Starsky couldn't remember feeling this confident and self-assured, let alone this sexy. Starsky threaded his leg in between Hutch's, so he could apply a little more force as he moved, rubbing his cock against Hutch's, the two of them thrusting together. "Who's the tease now?"

"You are. Whatever you want, Starsky. Just don't -- aw, fuck -- stop."

Starsky didn't. He felt how slick Hutch was getting, and wrapped his hand a little tighter around the base of Hutch's cock.

With a small groan, Hutch rolled slightly and threaded his own hand to wrap it around Starsky's cock.

Wow. Did that feel good. Hutch's hand was pretty big, and Starsky could feel each of his fingers sliding over his skin, tight and fast, jerking him off. He buried his head in Hutch's neck, and nipped at him, grinding himself against Hutch.

Hutch wrapped his hand around both of them, and Starsky could feel Hutch's dick pressing against his own, the heavy weight of it matching his own. It felt really fucking cool. "Oh, yeah, that's--"

Hutch let go momentarily, licked the palm of his hand, and wrapped it around their cocks again. Oh, that was good. Real good. Starsky ground himself down and into Hutch, who pressed back up against him.

They found a rhythm at last, a press-pull-thrust that worked, Starsky up on his forearms, his chest brushing against Hutch's as they rocked together. As the tension built, Hutch groaned, and let go of their cocks, and stroked his hands down Starsky's bare back.

"Oh, yeah." He wound himself more tightly against Starsky, his hands gripping Starsky's hips. "That's good." He licked Starsky's neck, and nipped at the wet spot. "Oh, fuck." He said, laying his head back on the bed. "You look really good like that."

The words and the touches turned Starsky on like nothing he could remember. He felt Hutch beneath him and around him, pressing against him; and Starsky unleashed himself, moving fast and hard, Hutch clutching at him, arcing into it and begging for the ride.

"Oh yeah, man, like that. That's good. Right there...Now... Fuck!"

The constant noise blurred with the heat and sensation to build to a dull rumble deep within Starsky's chest. He wrapped his arms around Hutch's shoulders, pressing his face into Hutch's neck. "So good."

"Yeah, oh fuck, yeah."

Starsky tensed and pressed his eyes as hard shut as he could, feeling the pressure roll up from deep within his balls, demanding to be let out. He wanted to hold back if he could, keep just another second of this, make Hutch--

"God, Starsky--" Hutch arced against him, and Starsky felt a warm slickness spread across his belly, and let go, a faint moan escaping his lips. So damn good.

He kissed Hutch as thoroughly as he could, then sprawled out beside him, utterly spent, enjoying the feel of warmth pressed against his cheek, and the momentary silence. 

* * *

"You know, that was pretty damn good." Hutch pressed himself next to Starsky, ran his hand up his thigh, and left it sitting on Starsky's chest.

"Yeah, pretty damn good." Starsky grinned and stretched out on the floor. He felt great, like this was it, the place he was really supposed to be, and Hutch's hand felt really nice. He didn't want to move at all.

There was a pause, a moment of warmth and contentment before Hutch spoke again. "You know, it's getting cold in here. And the carpet's kinda itchy. What do you say to going upstairs and crawling into bed together?”

"I'm comfortable here." Well, Starsky felt pretty comfortable, anyway, though the floor was a little hard and the carpet did itch if he thought about it, but he was too tired to stand.

Hutch levered himself up onto one arm, so he could look Starsky in the eyes. "You're still my partner, and there's nothing's going to change that. Going upstairs just means that we have a nice waterbed to sleep on, rather than a hard, itchy floor."

"Something would change. I'd have to move, and I don't think I can."

"Fine." Hutch settled back down, and rolled over, pressing his ass against Starsky's side. "Can you toss me a pillow and a blanket? We're gonna need something if I'm gonna stay warm."

The floor was beginning to hurt. "Maybe the bed is a good idea."

"A good idea? It's a great idea. I am filled with great ideas."

Starsky rolled onto his side and stood, holding out a hand to help Hutch up. He looked at the scattered pieces of the monopoly board and smiled. "You just might be at that." 

  
THE END  



End file.
